


The Nightingale's Call

by MarieITNO98



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional, Hurt/Comfort, Joe's just the best, Love, M/M, Slow kisses, Temporary Character Death, Trust, tiny bit of love making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieITNO98/pseuds/MarieITNO98
Summary: Nicky needs Joe's support with dealing with his emotions after being shot at a job.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 4
Kudos: 211





	The Nightingale's Call

**Author's Note:**

> I just feel like Nicky can be quite sensitive and emotional.  
> I also live for protective!Joe and sweet, tender moments.
> 
> Ps: I apologize for any typos

The pain is excruciating, racing through his lower body, ripped open and spilling blood like a bottomless fountain.   
The world is spinning in an endless rush of exploding colors, making him dizzy.   
He stumbles, falls to his knees, reaching for a hand to hold onto but catches only heavy air.   
His hands claw through the dirt, the empty shells on the floor, desperately looking for something to cling to when he suddenly feels someone grabbing them with such force that he forgets the pain in his abdomen for a single, glorious second before he buckles down entirely.  
"Nicolò!" Joe grabs his hands so tight he fears he might break the bones. "Nicolò."  
Nicky throws his head around, his legs kicking as his body trembles in what feels like his last agonizing breaths.   
"Andy!" Joe's voice is breaking, his breathing as abrupt as Nicky's, who scrambles up into his lap, Joe pushing him against his chest.   
"Andy!"  
Nicky feels another pair of hands on his knees, and something pressing against his stomach.   
A low groan escapes his throat as he bucks up, soaking the cloth with the never-ending stream of blood.   
"Look at me, Nicky."   
His eyes try to focus on the person in front of him, but he can't stop the involuntary thrusts of his body under the pain.   
"Look at me, Nicky. It's Andy."   
"Why is it not healing?"   
Joe's cries somehow register in his fogged brain, and with the last shred of strength, Nicky squeezes his hand back, lets him know he is still here.  
He tries to say something but nothing comes out of his mouth.   
He should have been dead two minutes ago, yet his body is still fighting, trying to avoid the inevitable for a few seconds longer.   
He grips Joe's hand tightly, holding onto him for dear life.   
"I am here, Nicolò, I am here."   
It's the last Nicky hears before he goes limp, and everything fades to black.

Joe. 

It's his first thought upon awakening.  
With his eyes still closed, he flexes his fingers against Joe's hands, which are wrapped around his own.   
"Nicky!"   
Joe squeezes his hand gently as Nicky buries his head against his chest.  
He inhales his scent, wants to melt into his body.  
"Are you alright?"   
Finally, he opens his eyes, blinking in the bright light. "Yes, I think so."  
"You gave us quite the scare there."   
Only now does Nicky recognize Andy, kneeling next to him, her hand still on the cloth that covers his stomach, the skin underneath now smooth and unharmed.   
His gaze falls onto two bullets that are lying not far from him.   
"What happened?"   
"One of the bastards shot you."  
"Where's Nile?" Nicky slowly sits up, not moving an inch away from Joe.  
"She's out front, burying the clothes."   
"Were we successful, at least?"  
"100 percent," Joe informs him, a grim grin on his face. "They paid for what they did." Nicky knows he isn't just talking about the crimes against the children that the drug lords did.   
With a shaky exhale, he leans his head against him.  
Even though he has lived through it a thousand times, the draining, tiring sensation after death never gets easier.   
"Let's go home." Andy gets up, offering him a hand. "We can all use a shower and something to eat."

Nicky feels everyone's eyes on him as he's standing at the sink, dunking the plates into the lukewarm water.   
Specifically, Joe's eyes. As if his mind recognizes them even without looking.  
"I'm fine, really," he says.   
He knows it sounds unconvincing and, judging by the looks the others give him, they know it too.   
"I'll go on the porch for a bit."   
Nicky puts the dripping dishes into the rack and quickly crosses the room, suddenly eager to be alone.  
He's grateful that Andy had chosen this hideout. It's far from the city, so secluded not a single car can be heard.   
A beautiful night sky stretches above his head with hundreds of stars, maybe more. If he looks at the vast cosmos long enough, he feels as if he were still a knight in the desert, hundreds of years ago, which both feels like just a second and yet a millennium away.   
Nicky senses Joe's presence before he even speaks. He looks over his shoulder, giving the other man a small smile.   
Joe hands him a hoodie, prompting a long-forgotten memory to resurface in Nicky's mind, from a time where they both hadn't quite decided what to make of the other.   
Vivid images of them sitting around a fire in an icy cold night in the desert.   
Maybe it had started there, Nicky thought with Joe handing him one of his spare coats when his shivering body had given away how little he liked the cold.   
It hadn't changed over the years. Joe still knew he needed an extra layer of clothing when temperatures dropped.   
Joe rests his elbows on the porch balustrade, their shoulders touching.  
It is quiet for a long time, both men listening to the cicadas which are hidden in the dark corners of the garden.  
"Are you okay?" Joe's voice is gentle, soft.   
Slowly, Nicky puts his head on Joe's shoulder while his other hand sneaks around his waist, pulling him close.  
"Hold me."  
His whispered plea almost drowned out by the increasing wind.   
Joe gently extends his hand until he is hugging Nicky with both arms. Nicky feels his body light up with a familiar warmth, spreading from his chest down to his feet.  
Burrowing his head into his shoulder, he repeats his words, "I want you to hold me."  
"In bed?"  
His breath feels warm against his cheek as they entangle themselves from the embrace.   
Nicky nods.

The lights in the kitchen are already off when they quietly make their way to their bedroom, fingers interlaced.   
They're holding hands until both are sitting on the bed. Joe opens his mouth, but before he can say the first word, Nicky presses his lips onto Joe's.  
It's not his most elegant kiss. He misses Joe's bottom lip by a few millimeters.  
Not that he cares.  
Usually, their kissing would get heated, hands flying over each other's bodies.  
Tonight, Joe seems to pick up on the different energy.  
Nicky basks in the gratitude he has for how in tune they are, to a point where words are no longer necessary.   
His body slumps down against the soft pillow.   
Joe's lying on top of him, slowly rocking against him, deepening the kiss without rushing.   
Nicky deeply exhales when they break apart for a few moments. He tugs at Joe's sweater, which prompts the other to take it off in one swift motion.   
Without a warning, his mind is racing again, slowly spinning out of control as if drifting away from reality. He suddenly feels as if he's on the floor in that office again, bleeding to death.  
Nicky lifts himself up, hugging Joe as tightly as he can, pressing his forehead against his collarbone, wishing to close every space, every centimeter between them.   
He needs Joe to remind him he is still here, breathing. 

Living.

The urge to feel Joe close overwhelms his thoughts, and he clings onto his shoulders with nails digging deep into the skin where the bruises fade as fast as they had come.  
He feels Joe's hands slipping under his hoodie and shirt, going up and down his back in slow, soothing movements that send shivers down his spine.   
"You're here." Joe murmurs, "I've got you."   
He pulls one hand out from underneath the clothes to cup Nicky's neck and continues to draw circles on his shoulder blades with the other.  
"I've got you. You're here with me."   
Nicky exhales again, taking deep breaths in sync with Joe's movements.  
Joe gently guides him down until he's lying flat on the bed again. Nicky reaches up to lift his shirt when Joe takes his wrists.  
"You sure?" there's so much care in those brown eyes, accumulated over centuries, glistening like a starry night in some hidden desert, long erased from any mortal's memory.   
"I am sure."   
Joe helps him out of his clothes, and as he parts Nicky's legs to press a kiss onto the soft skin, Nicky feels his body come alive with a jolt as if suddenly everything is right again.   
He doesn't even hear the first call of the nightingale as he threads his fingers through Joe's curls.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <33


End file.
